


Bus Stop Coffee

by Raven_At_The_Writing_Desk



Series: Circle City [1]
Category: Horror - Fandom, Original Work, shapeshifters - Fandom, vampire - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Halloween, One Shot, corax, werecrow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 05:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16423580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_At_The_Writing_Desk/pseuds/Raven_At_The_Writing_Desk
Summary: Anson's just waiting for his bus to come in...





	Bus Stop Coffee

 

Anson swirled the dredges of the coffee-machine coffee in the thin insulated cup, frowning at it and wishing the Starbucks around the corner was still open. The bus stop station was a massive open air building, built to hold ten or more buses, switching in and out, at it’s peak times of morning and evening rush hour. At nearly one in the morning though, the buses were few and far between, which was why Anson was sitting here, mostly alone, drinking lukewarm goo that tried to pass as coffee.

He yawned, it was late and he was more than ready for his own bed. He’d hoped the coffee would wake him up. It was working, if only in that his stomach was appalled at what he’d just forced into it. Anson sighed and leaned against the new Plexiglas windows of the seating area, his head rolled over to his left to look longingly at the homeless man sleeping on the bench in the next seating area over. He wanted to sleep too.

To distract himself, Anson flipped over the little piece of paper that had brought him downtown. It was a scrawled message, in nearly illegible handwriting. It was a poorly written plea for help, and it was slipped into the bill Anson had received at Peppy’s Grill with his late night cheeseburger. His stomach gurgled at the thought of the burger, as the coffee was now at war with the greasy meal.

Anson rolled his head to the right, and saw a new figure in the seats beside him. He managed not to jump. She didn’t apper to notice him at all, staring out the right hand panels at the dark buildings of the sleepy downtown. Anson pulled himself upright, and sat his cup of goo on the cement floor.

“Cool night,” He said, sounding lame to his own ears. She didn’t turn. “and still damp.”

She turned, like she was moving through a thick substances. She fixed faded blue eyes on him, and blinked very slowly. Anson fought not to look at her like she was odd. He made a quick glance at her noting her limp blond hair, unremarkable features, and modest dress. When she continued to say nothing, he just shrugged.

“It’s always like this, this time of year,” She said after he began to look away.

“Oh,” Anson said. “I’m new here.” He lied.

“Oh,” She said.

“Yah, I just got here, and am still looking for a job,” He scratched his nose, feeling lame. She looked at him like she felt the same way.

“You’re looking for work at one in the morning?” She asked. “You don’t have very good luck, do you?” He grimaced and looked away. He heard her shuffle and turned back enough to see her stand up. “Is the coffee any good?”

“No,” He said with more conviction. “And I strongly do not recommend it.”

She walked past him anyway and over to the coffee machine between the two large seating areas. She dug in her purse and clinked two coins into the machine.  
“Can’t expect too much from fifty-cent coffee,” She said. She gave him a slow side glance, and he got the feeling she was judging him. He grimaced again and shrugged. He sat quietly, watching her move, till she sat back down, this time closer to him than she had been.

“Buses sure run slow this time of night,” He said. She sipped her coffee and then  
smiled turning to him.

“There are no buses this time of night,” She said, her smile becoming one of pity. Anson swallowed, she leaned closer to him. “The buses stop running at midnight.”

“Oh,” Anson couldn’t help but lean back. She continued to smile at him, and her faded eyes almost glinted. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling she was pitying him.

“No one’s going to miss you, are they?” She said, scooting closer to him. She’d wedged him into the corner of the booth. The pity on her face was edged with a look of hunger. Anson moved to jump up, and her arm swung out like a cat’s paw and slammed him back into the corner. The booth rattled and he bit his tong.

“Fuck,” He said, blinking at her. She was practically straddling him now, one hand reaching to cover his face, his nose and his mouth. He pushed against her body, headless of where his hands fell, but she didn’t budge. She leaned in, her face inches from his.

“It’s ok, I’ll end it all for you. No more bad luck,” She forced his head back and exposed his neck. He couldn’t see her lean over him, her toothy mouth gaping, ready to tear into his neck. Then he shoved with all his strength, flexing muscles that morphed with the adrenaline in his veins. The monster woman toppled off him, unbalanced. She landed on her back and he stood on his feet, jumping backwards to the bench, and then leaping up, changing shape, and flying into the air. He curved above her and landed back over by the coffee machine, changing back as his feet touched the ground.

The woman followed him movements with a cat like focus. Her jaws even twitched with anticipation when she saw him land. Anson rubbed his neck absently, keeping his eyes on her. The woman scrambled to her feet and almost leaped into the air. Almost, but for the blade that took her head from behind.

Anson watched as the woman fell back down, very much like a puppet who’s strings were cut, her head rolling slightly to rest on it’s side. The woman’s head blinked once, and her mouth worked a few times, nothing come out. Anson felt his cheeseburger and coffee sludge rise unpleasantly in his stomach. He looked away with a jerk and stared at the new woman standing above the dead one.

“Fuck,” He said. The new woman looked at him, her disapproving frown narrowing her almond shaped brown eyes.

“You’ve got a mouth, Birdie,” Jude said her Irish brogue thick and out of place. Then she looked at the dead body and gave it a kick. “Not a drop of blood in her. Wonder how she ticked? Wonder if she’s dead?” Jude picked up the head by it’s hair and turned it to look at her. “You want to take it home?” Jude grinned as she danged the head towards Anson. He fought his food down and managed to glare at the woman.

“Fuck you Jude, where were you?”

She shrugged and set the head on the bench so it could face them. “You seemed to be ok. Besides, you need to grow a spine. You’re not exactly helpless,” She said as she walked over to toe the body, before she bent to pick it up. Anson rubbed his neck again, glaring. Jude flashed him an unfriendly, predatory smile. “Take care of that delicate hide of your’s, Birdie.” Jude hoisted the body and reached for the head. She walked off with her gruesome load until the dark swallowed her and they vanished.

Anson rubbed his neck one last time, and grumbled under his breath. He hopped into the air again, shifting into a large black raven, and flew back towards his home and his long anticipated bed.


End file.
